


We Were

by unseenstars



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Feels, Hurt No Comfort, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unseenstars/pseuds/unseenstars
Summary: Clint thinks maybe they were meant to be.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 26





	We Were

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Clint, Natasha, or Keith Urban's song "We Were."

_ We were just a couple years short of the age _

_ By my name on a fake ID _

_ And still 'bout a hundred away from the day _

_ Your daddy said you could run with me _

Natasha’s dad doesn’t like Clint very much, but then again, Clint doesn’t blame him. He’s got a bit of a reputation around town.

But Natasha, for some impossible reason, does like him, and Clint’s not about to blow it.

They meet their senior year of high school. College is off the table - money’s tight for her, and Clint’s family needs him around to help out in the auto shop. She’s smart enough to go; he probably is, but doesn’t feel the inclination to try.

So instead of leaving the town of Shield Falls, population 6,877, Clint and Nat spend their first summer out of high school charming their way into the local bars. He teaches her to shoot tequila, and she vents to him about her dad, and whatever he’s done this time.

Clint makes a point of avoiding her father, which Natasha is fine with. She makes a point of avoiding her father whenever possible, too.

_ We were a couple of line steppers _

_ Who just couldn't wait to step over the line _

_ Never thinkin' we wouldn't last _

_ I was your first and you were mine _

Nat’s an adrenaline junkie, has been as long as Clint has known her. He doesn’t usually stop her impulses if she’s staying (relatively) safe, but he’s there to stop her when she’s about to cross whatever line she’s decided to draw for herself that night.

It becomes a ritual between them.

“Hey Nat, how far you gonna go tonight?” Clint will say when he picks her up, usually late, because his goddamn car doesn’t work half the time.

And she’ll give some answer like “I’m not going to get involved in any bar fights, but don’t blame me if I start one between other people,” and she’ll kiss him and Clint will laugh and wonder how he got so lucky.

But he knows when to make her take a step back because Nat will cross any line you set in front of her, but she’ll be damned if she crosses the ones she sets in front of herself, and he doesn’t want to let that happen to her.

_ And we were leather jackets hangin' onto a Harley _

_ Two heartbeats in the moonlight _

_ We were both feet hangin' out over the edge _

_ Of a water tower skyline _

_ At least there's a little bit of sweet in the bitter _

_ Though a part of me is always gonna miss her _

_ I am who I am, I just miss who I was when we were _

After a year, Clint’s saved enough to buy himself a motorcycle, which he does with much glee. Nat doesn’t squeal when she sees it - she’s not really a squeal kind of person - but she does grin a mile wide and say, “When are you gonna take me on it?”

“Right now,” Clint replies, and then they’re flying down back roads at three a.m., and Nat’s screaming in his ear and he can feel the heat of her hands on his waist even through his jacket, and her heart is beating through her shirt against his spine, and everything is right with the world.

Clint can’t imagine anything but right now.

_ We were gonna make it, weren't we, baby? _

_ Had it all laid out in our mind _

_ By the time we knew time was runnin' out _

_ We done run out of time _

In October, Nat gets a letter.

“NYU,” she says. “They’re inviting me to apply. They say I might qualify for a scholarship.”

Clint wants to be happy for her, needs to be happy. But he can’t ignore the sliver of doubt he feels in his gut.

He swallows, and says, “That’s awesome.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

“No, it is,” Clint says.

Nat rolls her eyes. “I’ve been invited to apply, Clinton. I haven’t even decided whether I’m going to or not. I’m not moving anywhere for a long damn time,” she whispers, and kisses him, hard.

He forgets about NYU - mostly.

_ And we were downtown Saturday night _

_ Last-call cover band _

_ 'Til the last song played, never thought we'd fade _

_ Like the stamp on the back of her hand _

Clint is only six months away from being old enough to not require a fake ID to get into clubs. Nat’s still got almost a year, but that doesn’t matter. They go dancing, they go drinking, they just live for now.

Nat doesn’t talk about NYU again, and Clint doesn’t bring it up. But she didn’t throw the letter away. He’s seen it, sitting under a book on the end table by her bed.

One night, they’re drunk, their wrists a mess of entrance stamps, and Nat’s head is lying on his chest when she whispers, “I applied to NYU.”

“I’m proud of you,” says Clint, and he means it.

“I haven’t gotten in yet,” she replies, twisting around to look in his eyes. He lightly runs his fingers down her spine, and she sighs. “I’m still waiting to hear from them.

_ We were her on my shoulders, lighter in the air _

_ "Pour Some Sugar On Me" _

_ We were top down at Johnson's field _

_ When she whispered that she wants me _

_ At least there's a little bit of sweet in the bitter _

_ Though a part of me is always gonna miss her _

_ I am who I am, I just miss who I was when we were _

Of course Nat gets into NYU.

She cries when she gets the acceptance. Clint’s working the day the letter arrives, and she runs into the shop with the unopened envelope. He watches as she opens it, and knows even before she says a word that she’s gotten in, that she’s leaving him.

Somehow, he scrapes up the money to drive her, and they make the eight-hundred-mile trip in Clint’s shitty car, the one he took her out in when they first got together. He surprises her with tickets to see Def Leppard in Madison Square Garden on their last night together.

They talk their way up to the stage, and Nat climbs on his shoulders so she can see the band, and she’s waving a cigarette lighter in the air and screaming along to every word, and when it’s over, Clint’s shoulders hurt and his heart hurts more.

Nat can barely keep her hands off of him after, and they don’t even make it to the bed before she’s whispering, “I want you,” and somehow the sex is the best they’ve ever had. Clint doesn’t really think this is fair, because he knows there’s a decent chance he’ll never see her again, but he keeps his opinions to himself and holds her a little closer when they finally fall asleep.

_ And we were leather jackets hangin' onto a Harley _

_ Two heartbeats in the moonlight _

_ (We were) both feet hangin' out over the edge _

_ Of a water tower skyline _

_ At least there's a little bit of sweet in the bitter _

_ Though a part of me is always gonna miss her _

_ I am who I am, I just miss who I was when we were _

Clint wakes her at dawn because he has a long way to go and he’s already going to be driving till midnight. Nat’s sleepy, but she buries her face in his chest and says, “I love you,” one last time. He kisses the top of her head and whispers, “I love you, too.”

Clint drinks her in, her red hair, her eyes, her expression, her scent, everything that makes Nat,  _ Nat _ , until he’s confident he’s memorized her, this beautiful, strong woman, because he just doesn’t know what’s next, and he’s too afraid to say so. So he swallows, rasps, “Bye, Nat,” and bolts for the door before he loses his nerve and begs her to come back with him.

He doesn’t cry until he’s crossed into New Jersey, and then he turns up the radio and blasts old rock music loud enough to make him go deaf.

She never calls him.

_ Friends say, "Oh well, let that ship sail _

_ You gotta let go of her _

_ Just wasn't meant to be," _

_ But somewhere down deep I still believe _

_ That we were _

Clint gets a letter the next fall from some college asking him if he’s interested in a program for auto mechanics. He takes it, if only to get out of Shield Falls, which holds too many memories of Nat. He moves to Oregon the following June.

He picks up archery in college and discovers a hidden talent for it, and joins a club team that periodically travels places. He makes friends. A few years later, he goes to New York for a tournament and is suddenly overwhelmed with longing.

Briefly, he toys with the idea of looking her up again, just to see if she wants to get a coffee and catch up on life. He can’t believe that he’s musing over the idea of asking Nat out for a coffee when four years ago, he would’ve memorized her order. Their lives are so different than those of the kids who were stuck in Shield Falls.

Were they ever meant to be more than a fling, Clint wonders? Or were they just a summer romance that got dragged out when neither of them had a choice?

In a fit of daring, he dials her number. The call goes to voicemail.

_ “Hey, this is Natasha. Leave your name, number, and reason for calling, and I’ll get back to you.” _

It’s a new message. Smooth, professional. Not the old Nat he loved. But he still loves this one.

The tone beeps. Clint hangs up.


End file.
